


A City's many gates

by hillbillied



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient History, Ancient Rome, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillbillied/pseuds/hillbillied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Warren Mucius</i> was a citizen of Rome, a member of the greatest Empire to ever rule, a free man born to the most feared and powerful force known to mankind. It was only reasonable that he found it difficult to understand how he wound up on the back of a rather unsociable donkey, being led by a mysterious redhead in the middle of the desert.</p>
<p>And hadn't he been wearing different clothes before now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hatchered](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchered/gifts).



> purely self-indulgent ancient!AU for MuckMalarkey because, let's be real here, there's a lot of weird and wonderful Webgott and Winnix AUs but very few for these two so... enjoy!

He dreamed of glistening water.

Of a seemingly endless lake, with water so clear he could count the grains of sand across its floor. Barely a wave passed over the mirror's surface, sparkling like diamond in the sun, the liquid only disturbed by the occasional ripple from the breeze.

His feet sunk into the water blissfully, the cool sensation travelling over his ankles and rising up his calves as he waded deeper. He moved slowly, content in the feeling of the lake around his waist, dragging him out to sea. Deeper, and deeper still, until he could float off of the perfect white sand at the lake's bottom.

He could lean back, stretch out to stare up at the sky as he was held afloat by the seemingly impossible water. How could it possibly support him so easily? He chose not to think too heavily on the subject. Simply laid back, and enjoyed the weight being lifted from his aching body.

It was a perfect reprieve.

" _Oi_..."

The sound penetrated his peaceful sanctuary, one eye cracking open to survey the clear blue sky.

" _Oi, Roma_..."

The sun from above was blinding, blocking out his view of whoever addressed him from above.

" _Oi! Roma!_ "

He let his eye slip shut once more, content to drift in the cool, refreshing water...

 

 

 

The wooden surface supporting his back fell away as he was hauled unceremoniously off the donkey's cart, falling backwards with a strangled yelp and a heavy thump. The man groaned loudly as his sleep was rudely interrupted, elbows slipping in the dust as he lifted his head to stare after the slowing wagon.

The hooves of the beast came to a halt as the driver brushed off his hands pointedly, frowning down at the traveler lying in the dirt below his cart.

"No further, Roma." The merchant's gruff voice rang out.

The stranger on the ground rubbed the back of his head with a moan, letting out a breathless laugh.

"You didn't have to throw me off the cart!"

The larger man remained unimpressed. "I am heading on to _Petra_. You are not wanted there."

The sounds of hands scrabbling in the dust accompanied the large driver as he moved to sit back down at the reigns, his company hurrying to get to his feet and run to the front of the cart.

"Wait, wait, wait-! That's it?! I was to come with you, we had a deal!"

"I do not make deals with beggars." The merchant said plainly, tugging at the reigns to steer the donkey around the body blocking his path, "I did you a favor bringing you this far."

The beggar scoffed, throwing his arms up to indicate the desert landscape around them, "This isn't _anywhere_!"

"Well, maybe if you'd paid me, I could take you on to Petra." The driver wondered aloud, shrugging without commitment.

The face of his company paled, a nervous chuckle erupting from the man who stood in the dirt.

"Y-You know I don't have anything like that..." He laughed, fidgeting as his hands rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Too bad." The merchant said with a shrug, uncapping the waterskin at his side and taking a heavy swig. "You would have liked Petra. Beautiful city."

With a swift kick to the behind, the donkey was startled into motion once more, leaving the stranger no choice but to dive out the way of the advancing cart. Its wooden wheels rattled over the dry earth, bouncing on each stone as the beggar shouted after the merchant.

"You can't just leave me here! _Hey!_ Stop, wait, you can't-!"

"Good luck, Roma!" The driver called without looking back, raising one arm from the reigns to wave farewell.

His form vanished out of sight, behind the shimmering of hot air and the gusts of sand on the horizon. It left the other man alone, screaming a mix of curses and pleas after the disappearing vehicle. All of which fell on deaf ears, his only escape long gone by now.

" _Bastard!_ " The young man huffed, kicking at the dirt in anger.

The only result of this was the strap of his sandal snapping, sending the shoe flying off at an angle to land in the sand. Another heavy groan erupted from the traveler, his dirty toga now matching one frayed leather sandal with one bare foot. The hot earth scorched his skin as he trod carefully to retrieve his shoe, snatching it from the ground with a grunt.

Upon closer inspection, he was forced to discard it once more, throwing it away purposely this time. It was destroyed beyond repair. His anger slowed to a simmer as he watched the thing disappear over the rocks that jutted from the roadside. Running sweaty palms over his face and through his golden hair, the young man took a second to breathe. To pause, and think clearly.

"C'mon, Skip, you've got yourself out of worse circumstances than these." He muttered to himself, hoping to find motivation in the words.

It barely helped, but at least the moment of pause gave him the chance to survey his surroundings. Bleak, that was his conclusion. All dust and sand and rocks and then more dust and sand and rocks. Dry and hot and everything he hated in an area.

Hardly a refuge for a run away like he. If he could even call himself that, considering he was running away from the law.

He missed Rome.

But he wasn't in Rome anymore, was barely within the great Empire's boundaries now. He had to find his own way, or forge it himself if he couldn't find one to his liking.

"You can do this." Skip whispered, straightening his back as his hands found his hips and a smile returned to his face, "A new start, a new life."

He let out a short burst of laughter, listening to it float away on the silent breeze.

"And plenty more people to swindle!"

 

 

 

People, it seemed, were hard to find in these parts.

Skip had quickly become convinced he was walking in circles, his trek down the dusty road passing nothing of note since he set off after the merchant's cart. No houses, no travelers, not even so much as an animal to mark where he had been. The jagged rocks that lined the path barely made it past his shoulders in height, and somehow all managed to look eerily similar after a few hours.

At least, he presumed it had been a few hours. Maybe it had been days. Or worse, only a few minutes. The sun was still high and continued its merciless assault on his pale skin, leaving him sweating and gasping for air.

Only the occasional mouthful of dust, swept up by the rare breeze, was there to quench his thirst, and the heat became steadily more unbearable with each step he took. His toga had quickly been discarded in the hopes of keeping him cool, along with his one remaining sandal. The cursed shoe was food for the dogs now, lying discarded in his wake along the desolate roadside. He'd torn the garment to shreds in the hope of keeping some decency, wrapping it around his waist and using the rest to tie a crude bandanna around his head. It was drenched within minutes, its only benefit being that beads of sweat no longer fell from his forehead into his tired eyes.

Which were growing harder and harder to keep open with every passing footfall, Skip noticed blearily, somewhere in the back of his hazy mind. His eyelids felt weightier, the dusty road beginning to spin and sparkle with spots of grey. He frowned as he watched the desert wobble and then tilt, falling into swirling mix of dark shapes and passing gusts of sand.

Darkness was a cool reprieve, and the traveler welcomed it as he collapsed by the roadside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story is like my guilty pleasure for when me (or Roe) is feeling down and I need to write something fun! that, or I've been listening to the Prince of Egypt soundtrack!

He dreamed of glistening water.

Of a swirling array beneath his fingers, reflecting the light like liquid glass. Only this time, as he approached, he felt his path blocked by cool stone. An ornately carved basin, huge and lengthy, caged the water before him, stretching out around the perfectly formed statue that towered above.

A fountain, he realized. From the city, from his birthplace.

From Rome.

The pale figures were magnificent, rivaling the natural beauty of the bubbling spring from which they rose. The cool feeling against his fingers fell away as he withdrew them, instead choosing to reach out over the fountain. To try and touch the statue, to lay his palm on the smooth carving.

His knees quickly found themselves on the basin's edge, balancing precariously on the edge of the pool as he strained desperately forward. His balance shifted and became unstable, one hand on the stone wall barely able to keep him upright, but still he leaned forward.

Until his knee slipped and with a cry he toppled over, crashing down into the freezing depths of the fountain before him.

The water was suddenly much colder than he had felt on his fingers, engulfing him with a swift sweep of its talons, drawing him down in its clutches. He opened his mouth to scream, but only bubbles escaped, replaced by a flood of icy fluid as he attempted to draw in a new breath.

He shut his eyes in pain.

 

 

 

Skip jolted awake as his eyes shot open, shocked into consciousness by his nightmare. The bright sunlight that erupted across his vision made him groan, squeezing his eyes shut once more, hissing as the heat flooded his muscles. Groggy and still exhausted from his earlier collapse, he didn't have the strength to look around again, so merely buried his face in the soft cushion that supported him.

A smile grew across his face as he realized his cheek lay upon soft hair, supporting his head as his body hung limply over a warm bed. The unruly curls moved slightly under his skin, tickling his nose as Skip's smile grew.

The hair of a person, then. No doubt one of the beautiful women he had often spent time with in Rome.

With a satisfied sigh the blond buried his face in the comfort of the curls once more, stroking them softly with his hand as he kissed the unknown person affectionately.

He wondered behind the safety of his closed eyes if he was back in the dining room of his villa, reclining on one of the feasting couches. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep after a particularly excellent meal, him and his counterpart.

The thought of Rome brought more concerning matters to his mind, and with an unhappy grumble Skip shifted his weight so his face was no longer buried in its cushion of curls. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, confused how he could have returned to Rome so easily, having fled the city so long ago.

Assaulted by the bright light once more, Skip squinted out at the tilted view of his surroundings. An unfamiliar landscape faded into sight, rising and falling slowly as it passed by his moving form. A unfortunately familiar dust was present, however, along with the same bleak feeling in his stomach that he recognised from the desert.

The desert that he had been left alone in.

With a frown and a hum of confusion, Skip turned his attention to the lengths of hair he had been resting upon, presuming them to be another human being.

He was greeted by a tangled mass of fur, stretching down the neck of a greasy mule. One that turned to yawn tiredly at him as it plodded along, seemingly unimpressed by his growing look of horror.

"Ugh!" Sweaty palms hurriedly wiped at his lips as the Roman realised what exactly he had been nuzzling against, spluttering as he attempted to remove the memory from his mouth, "S-Shoo!"

Thrashing his legs against the animal's body, Skip found himself once again toppling over, this time to one side. His bare feet slipped against the sand as he struggled to free himself from his position on the donkey's back, ending up in him landing on the desert floor for a second time.

The beast seemed all to happy to let him go, coming to a halt beside him with a sour look upon its hairy features. Its mouth moved as if chewing something, and the blond couldn't escape the feeling that it was silently judging him. He turned his attention elsewhere, looking down at the dirt that now caked his hands. Sitting back on his haunches with another low groan, he began dusting off his palms, clapping them together to free himself of the desert's filth.

" _Stupid ass_..." Skip grumbled, his frown only wavering as a pair of sandaled feet appeared beside him. They stopped short about a foot from where his knees rested, silent and still as the Roman slowly raised his gaze to squint up at the stranger towering over him.

He was met with a pair of dark eyes, accompanied by an expression as equally unimpressed as the mule's. _Like owner like animal_ , Skip thought, presuming it was this man's donkey he had been riding. The stranger certainly looked the part, his dusty kaftan bleached by the sun until almost grey. The frayed cloth he had balanced atop his head was little better, and had he been in a better position the blond would have let loose a tirade on the sash draped over the man's shoulder. Tied at the waste by a belt containing an array of parcels, it was a terrible excuse for a toga. At least, that's what Skip assumed it was meant to be. He wasn't actually sure _what_ the stranger was wearing.

Or what he, himself, was wearing for that matter as he scrambled to his feet, hands reaching to pat his body down for fear of what wounds he might find. Everything seemed to be in working order, apart from the clean grey linen now wrapped around his waist. It came as a shock as he inspected the garment, knowing full well it did not belong to him.

" _You're awake_." Skip's head snapped up at the statement, meeting with the stranger's dark eyes once more, "Good. I was starting to worry."

As the anonymous man lowered the large pack from his back - something the Roman had failed to notice until now - the silence gave Skip a moment to inspect his new company.

Copper curls stuck to the stranger's brow, accompanied by a dusty beard that flowered across his jaw. As he turned to pile the weighty supplies onto the mule's now empty saddle, Skip could see various specks of orange shimmer in the sun, under the dirt across the man's hair. Clearly he was in need of a wash. And a shave. Beards were not favoured in Rome, much to the blond's agreement.

They made even the most civilized senator look like a thundering savage. Skip wasn't a fan.

" _Well_ , you didn't need to worry about me," The Roman chuckled, watching as the stranger bent down to loop a rope under his donkey's stomach, securing his goods to its back, "I'm tougher than I look!"

"I wasn't worried about you." The redhead said bluntly.

A look of confusion took Skip's features, his eyebrow raised as the unknown man turned to look at him. The stranger scanned him up and down briefly, realizing he needed to clarify, before turning back to fixing the saddle of his donkey.

"I was worried about my mule."

If the redhead saw the look of horrified offense on the Roman's face, he didn't show it. He merely continued his work attaching the final pieces to his pack.

"That stupid ass-?"

"You shouldn't insult him like that." The stranger interrupted, leaving Skip stunned into silence, so unused to having his sentences cut short, "He's carried you a long way. You owe him your thanks."

With the deadpan way the man spoke, the blond couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. He prayed to the Gods that it was sarcasm he'd heard, and not the honest opinion that he should be grateful to a _donkey_.

Feeling annoyance bubble up from his confusion, Skip took a moment to bark out a laugh, giving the mule and its owner a sweeping bow. "Well, forgive me, oh great one!" He clamored, every syllable dripping with ridicule, "His donkey-ship has my sincerest gratitude!"

" _Sobel_."

For a moment, Skip wondered if the man had misspoke, unable to under his quick words.

"...Excuse me?"

 "His name is _Sobel_." The redhead repeated, nodding towards the mule, who had turned its head away, as if ignoring the pair.

" _So - bell_?"

"Yes. _Sobel_."

Finishing his work and giving the beast an encouraging pat on the neck, the stranger turned his back on the blond, heading away down the dusty road. Now free from the burden of carrying the huge bundles on his back, the anonymous man was able to untie the donkey's lead from his belt and wrap it carefully around his hand, steering the mule in his footsteps.

The pair began to wander slowly away, leaving Skip alone on the roadside once more, too stunned to move. His wide eyes followed the retreating stranger in dismay, a strangled noise of objection escaping his lips before he cleared his throat, shouting after the redhead.

"Hey, you can't just dump me here too! I don't know where I am!"

Unexpectedly, the stranger stopped. It almost scared Skip, he had been so convinced the man would simply disappear over the horizon like last time. Pulling the donkey to a halt, the redhead turned back to the Roman, facing him across the dirty path.

He seemed to scrutinize Skip from where he stood, just close enough for the two to see each other's expressions. After an additional moment of silence, the stranger frowned, making an expectant gesture with his hands.

" _Well?_ C'mon then."

The blond let out another strangled noise, this time of confusion. The redhead's shoulder visibly slumped as he let out an exhausted sigh, clearly unhappy with having to constantly explain himself.

"You're awake, and my donkey needs a rest." He turned back to the road, waving the Roman after him, "You'll have to walk from here, so come on."

After a seconds pause - and a very quick realization that he didn't want a repeat of the merchant's departure - Skip broke into a desperate jog after the pair, bare feet skidding in the sand as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so obviously these chapters are short and sweet, and this fic won't be very long - but there will hopefully be quite a bit of Jewish/Roman history in there considering the time period (post-135AD) but I'll let you guys wait and see for that!


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